happy birthday, regina
by deceptivelycomplex3925
Summary: A prompt I wrote for a best friend. It's Regina's birthday and she gets a lovely surprise. Post 4B. Also Cruella, Ursula, and Maleficent because they're wonderful and I don't want them to ever leave.


"Mal, honestly, this is ridiculous I don't even like – _Emma_?"

There's a snigger behind them.

"Well _that's_ a crock of shit," Cruella drawls into Ursula's ear, all cigars and scotch, and Ursula smirks, looping her arm through hers as they make their way past a smiling Emma and a stock-still Regina.

Regina blinks, momentarily dazed at the sight of Emma Swan in a tight black dress, her hair falling past her shoulders in tight curls reminiscent of the ones she'd use to wish she could tangle her fingers in so many years ago.

Tangle and _yank_; rake her nails through.

Regina swallows and clears her throat of its sudden dryness.

Emma is giving her one of those lopsided grins and Regina's already got a few drinks in her and so she's not feeling steady enough to squash the butterflies that smile always seems to elicit.

"It's your birthday, Regina. I wouldn't miss it."

And it's still new this friendship of theirs. It's been almost six months but it's still very much something she's not entirely used to yet.

She feels Mal give her back a firm nudge and she stumbles forward a bit and glares but she just gets a smirk in return and Regina wishes she could hate her a little more than she actually does.

"She looks positively _delicious_, dear. If you don't claim her soon I will." It's whispered into her ear and she grits her teeth, jealously, _possessiveness _flaring and she receives a dark chuckle in return.

She gives Emma a thorough once over as she passes her and even lets her fingers brush against the bare skin of her upper arm.

Emma looks at her, confused and a little wigged out, and Regina's too furious to keep it from showing on her face.

"How drunk is she?" Emma asks through a laugh.

"Completely sober actually."

Emma's eyebrow quirks up and her lips tick up into a wry smirk.

"And how drunk are you, Madame Mayor?"

She's had four too many and she's starting to feel whatever it is that salt and pepper and tentacles had practically forced down her throat.

Emma's leaning against the bar now, the lighting dim and smoky, and she's almost positive there's a strobe light somewhere in the background and she feels the bass of the music thumping in her chest.

"I can handle my liquor, Sheriff."

They do that a lot. The monikers.

It's affectionate now though. Always said with a smirk or the lift of an eyebrow. Always in jest.

Tonight though, it's heady. Less affectionate and more like a challenge. Like a dare.

"Good, because I ordered us a round of shots."

She reaches behind her and retrieves two shot glasses from the counter, raising them up and nodding her head at the bartender, a woman with spiked hair and tattoos on every visible inch of her body, who winks in return.

Regina's brow arches as she takes one of the glasses from Emma.

"A friend of yours?"

Emma gives her a look that suggests she's a bit more than that and Regina's temporarily floored.

"You could say that, yeah." She clinks her glass against Regina's then and fixes her with another crooked smile. "Cheers to being…wait, how old are you again?"

And Regina gives her a withering look, something that's a lot less potent than she'd like it to be.

Anger toward Emma Swan was much harder to summon these days.

Emma just chuckles and tosses back the shot, Regina following suit.

It burns down her throat and settles low in her belly, warmth enveloping her like a lover's embrace.

#

It's about three rounds later that finds the two sitting on bar stools scooted together so that they're touching, their legs almost intertwined, shoulders leaning heavily into one another and laughter fills up the space around them.

Emma's got tears in her eyes and Regina's abdomen constricts with the overuse of the muscles.

"And then when I walked in he was doing the waltz around his room, a little book in his hand and he was humming…and," she takes a large gulp of air, her words wobbly with her laughter, "and when I cleared my throat he tripped over his own feet and landed right on his ass."

Her hand falls to Emma's bare upper arm as she laughs again and Emma shakes her head, hands flailing in front of her.

"No, seriously, Regina, it was _the_ best thing ever, you should have seen his face."

She pushes hair out of her eyes and Regina's laughter dies out into faint chuckling then.

Emma's cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright and shining, and she looks so _so_ beautiful that Regina's stomach clenches in an altogether different way.

"Oh, wow," Emma breathes and Regina blinks then. Emma's attention is directed over her shoulder now and Regina follows her line of vision to the dance floor.

There's a large crowd around what looks like a singular chair in the middle, a spotlight giving the area around it an almost ethereal glow. There's a woman in the chair, another woman on top of her, sitting in her lap, _grinding_ her hips.

_Oh_.

"Are we at a lesbian bar?" Regina asks, eyes wide, but enraptured by the sight before her.

_So_ _lithe_.

Emma looks back at her, smile goofy and head tilted.

"Have you even looked around at all?"

And Regina does then. She sees a lot of women and a lot skin and a lot of tattoos and a _lot_ of kissing.

_Oh_.

"Yeah, _oh_," Emma chuckles. "You had no idea did you?"

Regina downs another shot, feeling her face heat.

"They just told me I'd enjoy myself, I didn't think they meant…" She blushes then, and averts her eyes to the dance floor again.

Her hand tightens around the empty shot glass.

So much _skin_.

"Have you ever had one before?"

Emma's voice at her ear startles her, and she leans away from the heat of it, whips her head to find Emma's eyes on her face.

Emma nods her head to the dance floor.

And Regina's eyes travel up the taut muscles of calves rippling, hair messy and curly and _blonde _cascading down a bare back.

She swallows again, thighs clenching.

She shakes her head, feeling off balance.

And then she feels a sudden absence and sees Emma making her way toward the dance floor, toward some guy with a head piece and a too tight shirt.

Regina lets out a shaky breath and makes a beeline for the restroom, ducking away from a few women who try to wrap their arms around her.

It's colder in here, the music a dull thrum and so she jumps when the door opens, her hand flying up to her chest.

It's Mal and she closes her eyes before turning back to wipe at her smudged eye liner.

"If you're here to tell me you've seduced Emma, I don't want to hear about it."

She feels a hand wrap around her arm and then she's being dragged out of the bathroom, a devious smirk on bright red lips.

She squirms and claws at the hand but she's really drunk and Mal's ridiculously strong.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" She tries to sound seething but it comes out slurred and is mostly drowned out by the roar of the music.

She's thrown into a chair seconds later and she's too busy staring daggers into Mal's forehead that she doesn't realize where she is.

"I'm _helping_ you, you idiot. Try not to throw up on her."

And then she's gone, engulfed by the growing crowd around her, and Regina's confused as to who 'her' is and what the hell was going on when she feels a warmth on her face, on her arms, her chest.

She glances up and is almost blinded, her hand shooting up to shield against the spotlight.

_Spotlight_.

Panic tendrils through her and her heart drops.

She's in the chair. In _the_ chair.

She moves to stand up when she feels hands on her shoulders and then hot breath at her neck. She shudders.

"You're here to have fun, remember?"

_Emma_.

She feels something jolt within her, feels it travel down her spine and pool at the base of it.

She twists her head around just as Emma trails a hand from her shoulder and down her arm.

Just as Emma swings a leather clad leg over her own and _straddles_ her.

Regina's hands grip at the seat of the chair and she grits her teeth, eyes on Emma's midriff, bare from the cut off white tank top she's now wearing.

"_Emma_."

Her arms are on either side of Regina's head and she bends down, nose brushing against her temple. Regina's hands tighten, knuckles turning white.

"Stop thinking." Emma murmurs into her ear.

She dips then, the leather of her pants rubbing against the bareness of her thighs and Regina's stomach flips, the raw _sensuality_ of Emma's hips moving against her, barely even making contact with her, making her head swim. Making her feel _unhinged._

"Don't think," Emma whispers into her ear again, her hips still rolling, barely brushing against her thighs again before rising back up. "Just _feel_."

She steps away then, gloriously sweaty and skin glistening in a glow of hazy blue and she bites her lip, a smirk forming as she trails her hands up her body, dragging her tank top up far enough as she does so that Regina sees the underwire of her charcoal bra.

And Regina feels it like something visceral. Feels it slam against her, feels it spread through her, feels it _ignite_ her.

This is Emma. This is _Emma_.

Her mind repeats it over and over again and she thinks it should be enough to make her legs move. To make her get up and walk away.

Instead it makes her want to never take her eyes off of Emma. It makes it almost _unbearable_ to think of walking away from her right now.

So she doesn't.

_Don't think._

Emma's hands tangle in her hair, in her _curls_, lifting them up and Regina watches enthralled as loose strands fall around her face and tickle at her collar bones.

Her hips sway back and forth and she dips again, leather squeaking with the strain and her hands fall away from her hair when she comes back up, eyes boring into Regina's. _Smoldering_.

Emma turns then, giving her back, a hand swiping her hair over one shoulder as she meets Regina's eyes again. And then she bends forward, hand traveling up the front of her leg as she does so and Regina's mouth parts on an unsteady exhale.

Her whole body tenses, feeling sticky and too warm and _unbelievably_ turned on and she wants to _feel_ Emma. Wants to _yank_ and _rake_ and _taste_ and she feels her hands start to tingle at the loss of blood circulation.

Her eyes take in the curve of Emma's hips, her glorious, _glorious_ ass and when Emma rights herself and glides back over to her, straddles her again, she feels the moment they both realize. Feels the moment of shared awareness at the situation they're in.

Emma leans in and Regina's almost dizzy with her scent. Something spicy, something like vanilla and leather and something else uniquely _Emma_ and Regina's hands shoot to grip at her waist, her nails digging into soft, _hot _skin.

Her eyes flutter closed and she exhales again, feeling herself reeling out of control.

"_Regina_," Emma moans into her ear, _moans _and Regina hands constrict, dig deeper.

She tugs and her back arches up off the back of the chair and Emma gasps in her ear when their bodies collide harshly, Regina having pulled so forcefully that Emma falls into her lap.

"You're driving me _insane_, Emma," Regina rasps, mouth at Emma's hair, her lips skimming the shell of her ear.

She feels Emma nuzzle at her temple again, feels her hips roll against her own, the contact sharp and _there_ and Regina's hips jerk up at the sensation.

"_Emma_," Regina growls and she feels a chuckle vibrate against her throat, feels lips warm and wet trail up until they're at her jawline.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to say my name like that?"

And Regina sucks in a sharp breath and her eyes flutter again, her body almost painfully sensitive, feeling like the slightest touch will set her aflame, make her come _undone_.

"Probably as long as I've been waiting to say it like that." She slides her hands around the small of Emma's back and palms her ass, pulls her into her harder, feels frustration, swift and desperate, race through her at the lack of contact.

"_Emma_," because she wants to feel her shudder against her again, "take me home."

She feels Emma nod against her neck and in one quick motion she's out of her lap and tugging at her hand until they're off the dance floor, out of the bar, and outside, the air crisp and sobering, and she's up against the brick wall in the alleyway just off to the side, Emma's body hot and solid and _real_ and she cups Emma's face then, stopping her just as her lips brush against her own.

"Emma, wait. Is this – I mean, do you – " and suddenly she doesn't know how to voice it, doesn't know how to say this isn't a one-time thing for her, that this isn't just physical attraction even though that's _very_ much present right now.

"Regina," Emma says, reading her with ease. "I've wanted this for so long. _Years_." And Regina's eyes snap up, heart leaping.

"You – you have?"

"Yes," Emma smiles, pure and soft and _light _and Regina feels the dread fall off of her like a heavy coat and she kisses her then, hands sliding up to thread through those disheveled, _delicious_ curls of hers, pulling her into her.

She feels whole, feels the word _right_ bounce around in her head.

And it is right. They've been building toward this. This was always where they were going to end up.

_Together_.

#

Inside the bar, Mal and Ursula and Cruella clink their glasses together.

"To the inevitable."

#

And it's not until later when they're tangled up in each other in Regina's bed with Emma drawing mindless shapes into the skin above Regina's navel that she realizes something.

"Oh my god, they _knew_."

And Regina chuckles then, something hoarse and happy, something free, something _light_.

"I think everyone knew, dear."

"Really?" Emma's head falls back to Regina's chest. "Huh."

"Mal even threatened to 'claim' you if I didn't do so."

Emma scrunches her face.

"That's what that was?" She scratches her nails up the length of Regina's thigh, smiling at the goosebumps that follow. "Besides, you're the one who's into blondes, not me."

She twists so that she can see Regina's face and chuckles at the denial working its way onto her lips, the formation of a scowl.

"You _so_ are, Regina. Maleficent, Tinkerbell, Kathr – "

"I was never _into_ Kathryn."

And Emma rolls her eyes then, shifting so that she's straddling Regina's stomach.

"But you're into _me_, right?"

And Regina's eyes turn soft, her fingers coming up to skitter across her abdomen.

"Very much so," she whispers and pulls Emma down to kiss her. "Very much so," she murmurs once more against Emma's lips, that feeling of wholeness once again infusing her body with warmth.

"Happy birthday, Regina." Emma whispers into her ear much later when they're both half asleep, Emma's head on her chest and Regina's hands wrapped around her middle.

She tightens her arms and presses a kiss to Emma's hair.

_Yes_, she thinks. _It is. _


End file.
